As White as Snow, as Red as Blood
by LoveFueledHate
Summary: "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who holds power over all?" "You do, sir, but a child has been born that will change that. He is strong but beautiful, with skin like snow, lips the color of blood and eyes like the sky in spring. He will be your undoing."
1. The Child

The child

In a small hut on the very outskirts of the king's land there lived a happy farmer, Brian, and his beautiful wife, Sharon. They lived a quiet, peaceful life. Unlike the other farms, their farm did well even in the harshest winter months. No one knew how they fared so well, even when the Earth became hard and the sun was sparsely seen as snow fell.

From what anyone could tell all the farmer did was tend to his crops like everyone else. Yet, when the other farms died off in the winter theirs still produced bountiful harvests. The crops grew well enough that there was plenty for the farmer and his wife and even more to be sold. This farm kept most of the people on the outskirts from starving.

However, what Brian and his wife were most known for throughout the entire kingdom was not for their amazing crops but for their perfect, red roses. They were the farmer's wife's pride and joy.

The roses grew during every part of the year, even when the winter flowers themselves withered from the cold. Sharon kept them healthy and properly tended to, unaware that the type of roses she had were not flowers that should have been able to survive, to thrive even, through the frosts and many snow storms that the kingdom suffered each year.

Even though Sharon worked hard to keep the flowers well and thriving, it was Brian who truly kept them alive. It was a secret he kept to himself, kept even from his beloved wife. He could make any plant grow and stay alive for as long as he willed them to. This precious gift of his was why even as other farms failed during the harsh weather his remained alive and prospered beyond anything anyone in the kingdom could ever hope for.

Brian wasn't truly aware of this gift of his until his wife and his first winter together. Sharon had planted roses as a symbol of their love when they had gotten married in autumn. In her mind she was to keep the flowers alive as she was to keep her marriage alive. So when the roses died that winter it left the farmer's beloved wife in a terrible state of depression. Since both the roses and their marriage had been doing so well she had convinced herself that if the roses died that meant the marriage would fall to ruin as well.

Every day she would gaze out the window they had been planted under and sigh miserably.

Unable to take Sharon's misery anymore and terrified that she would grow ill from her depression Brian went out on a cold winter's night and replanted the roses in the frozen Earth. He then got down on his knees and prayed over them in hopes that they would grow back full and healthy. He knew this was silly and would not work but still he prayed.

By morning full, beautiful, brilliantly red roses were blossoming below his wife's window and then when she saw them she no longer sat there sighing miserably.

Day after day Sharon would happily trim and pick the perfect roses to sell in town so that they would have money to set aside for more seeds when spring came. She would go door to door to sell them at a cheap price so that anyone could afford them, therefore spreading a bit of life back into the otherwise dead kingdom. This little bit of joy kept her content throughout the hard winter but once spring came so did her need for something else, something new that she could love to look after more than roses, something else that could symbolize the strength of their love, a baby.

For a year the farmer and his wife tried to conceive but no matter how many times they tried nothing seemed to work. Winter soon came around again and again his wife was by her window trimming the roses that had spread and grown as the year passed but now even as she set to work on the task she once loved, a sigh left her red lips.

"God, I wish I had a child…" She whispered to herself one day as she stroked the petals of a rose she had just trimmed away for the purpose of selling, "A son. Yes, a son to help my husband run the farm when he's older. He must be strong with skin as white as the snow that falls from the Heavens."

She smiled and laid the rose in her basket with the others before reaching for another but as she grasped the stem a thorn pricked her finger. Pulling her hand back with a surprised gasp, a few drops of blood fell onto the snow that was on the windowsill. The blood was bright and beautiful, much like her beloved roses.

"Yes, he will be pale and beautiful like the snow," She mused to herself as she looked from her small cut to the bloodied snow, "and he will have lips as red as my roses and as the blood that his father has put into working this land that he will grow to own."

She turned her attention to the sky and smiled more, "He will have eyes like the spring sky as well and a smile as warm as the sun…"

It didn't take long for her smile to fade and a sigh leave her lips once again. She got up from her seat beside the window to tend to the cut on her finger before she went to town to sell her roses. She stopped on her way to the sink when she spotted Brian standing in the door way with a worn smile on his weathered face as if he had been listening.

He walked over to her, taking her wounded hand in both of his large, callused ones. "And what would his name be?"

She looked to their joined hands in thought before smiling brilliantly and looking back at her husband. "Charles. His name would be Charles."

Every day after that the farmer prayed for the child his wife wished for, just like he had prayed over the roses but soon it was many years later and they still had no luck. They were losing hope in this feat and beginning to give up the idea of having the child Sharon wanted or any child at all because it seemed God did not want them to bear one.

Besides this constant source of disappointment, life on the farm carried on as normal. Brian tended to his crops and livestock while Sharon trimmed and sold her roses. Even as her husband seemed to accept they would not have a child, Sharon still clung to the dream of having her little Charles, the perfect baby boy she always wanted, even though every attempt to bring him into the world seemed to fail.

One day, Sharon grew very ill, despite her protests Brian spent most of their seed money on a doctor so he could to come to their hut and make sure she was okay. He needed to know whatever was causing this wasn't deadly. He couldn't bear the idea of losing his beloved wife when he had no child to remember her by.

He paced outside of the room since he was not allowed in while the doctor was with her. He nervously chewed his lower lip, glancing at the door periodically while he waited impatiently for it to open. An hour or so passed and he continued his pacing, practically wearing a hole in the wooden floor. However, as soon as the door opened he stopped moving and stared at the doctor who emerged from the room with a wide grin across his face.

"Congratulations, you will be a father soon. It is just the morning sickness." The doctor pat him on the back and shook his hand as Brian stood and started at the other man in shock.

All their prayers had finally been answered.

It was a long eight months wait after that day for their baby to finally be ready to be born. Labor pains lasted hours before it as time for it to be delivered. The delivery was no easy task. There had been a point where they could have lost the baby if the doctor and nurse hadn't acted fast enough. In the end Sharon fainted but a healthy baby boy was finally brought into the world.

When she awoke Sharon could not hold back a smile seeing the crying baby in the nurse's arms. He was placed in her arms and her smile grew. He was just as she had dreamed. His soft skin was a snowy white, only his cheeks and the tips of his nose and ears were rosy. His small pouting lips were a deep red as if he had painted them with the wild barriers that grew everywhere in the spring. His hair was a curly mess on top of his head, the color of the bark on the cherry tree that grew at the edge of their property.

He was completely perfect.

When his eyes finally opened for the first time, after he had finished his crying, Sharon gasped in surprise at the beauty they held. They were brilliant blue pools, a mix of all the most beautiful blues. She had never seen eyes so lovely. They could be passed off as treasured gems.

He began crying again and Sharon couldn't stop smiling. She stroked his little cheek and he stopped his crying again as he drifted off to sleep.

When Brian was finally allowed in the room he immediately ran to his wife's side and kissed her sweaty forehead. He had been frightened he might have lost her during delivery like many poor farmers had lost their wives. She had screamed and cried loud enough for him to hear her through the door during delivery so when all fell silent when she had fainted he feared the worst.

"Darling, look." She whispered softly and looked from her husband to the sleeping boy wrapped snugly in a blanket she held to her chest. "It's a boy."

He looked to the baby in her arms and smiled. He was the luckiest man alive right now. His wife had survived and now they had the baby they had prayed for.

"He is perfect. Is his name still to be Charles?" He asked as he reached out and gently stroked the mess of soft curls that covered the baby's head.

"Yes," She smiled, "I can think of nothing more suited for him."

_.Meanwhile… Elsewhere in the kingdom_

"Mirror, mirror on the wall who holds power over all?"

_As always you do, sire, but this day a child has been born to a farmer in your kingdom. He has skin like the first snow of winter and lips like the reddest rose, his eyes hold all the colors of the sky, from the darkest to the lightest of all blues. He will be the one that will take power._

A loud crash echoed down the empty hall as silver trays and papers and pens were sent to the floor in one angered swipe of an arm over the large oak desk. The man responsible for the mess spun around on his heel to face a mirror which hung on the bleached white wall behind the desk.

It was ornate with black tendrils curling out from the glass which sparkled and shined like it was made of diamonds and not the simple reflective glass that it was. However, the surface of the glass didn't reflect the man's angered face like most mirrors did. It showed the face of a woman. Her long golden hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, framing a beautiful face and accenting her bright blue eyes.

"How has this happened?" The man asked in a very calm, collected manner, the exact opposite of how he had reacted only moments ago.

The woman knew this behavior was far more threatening than his outburst had been. This calm attitude told her to tread a little more carefully or she would be taken off the wall and smashed in a million pieces.

_You have many years before the child will even know of this great power that lies dormant inside of him but nonetheless he will learn of his gift and that will be your down fall._

The king turned his back to the mirror again and closed his eyes, clearing his thoughts. He refused to believe that some stupid _child_ would ever take the power and land he had worked so hard to gain. Once he was last in line for the throne but in his quest for it he mercilessly killed those that stood in his way until he was crowned king. With control over the army he set out and conquered other kingdoms. He took what he wanted but now there was a threat to it. He would not have it, not from a mere child.

"Where can I find this child?" _It must be killed. _The last part remained unspoken but that did not matter, the mirror knew it hung in her king's mind just the same.

_I do not know his location, sire._

The woman in the mirror was lying. She knew everything about the baby's whereabouts. He was curled up in the warmth of a blanket pressed to his mother's bosom in a small hut on the outskirts of the kingdom. His name was Charles and he was the son of the farmer, Brian, and his wife, Sharon. The Mirror knew better than to tell this to her king. Charles had to live to aid another in the destruction of the King's corruption.

"Guards!" The king called and an instant later, in a cloud of red and black smoke, two men appeared. The first man was dark skinned with piercing black eyes. Though compared to his partner he had abnormal physical qualities. The other man was taller, older with cold blue eyes and deep crimson skin. He looked like the devil himself with his slicked back dark hair, red skin and razor sharp tail that swung idly behind him. Both were dressed in strong black leather armor signifying they were part of the king's special bodyguards.

The king kept only a few trusted men close at all times. He sent them on the missions no one would want to take, like killing a newborn baby, and in war time they were at his side protecting him almost 24/7. Those men were set apart from the other knights by the armor they wore. Theirs was black while other knights wore armor very similar but was made white leather instead.

In unison both men stooped to one knee in a quick bow before the king. He looked them over with cold appraisal, deciding if these where the right to for the task.

"There is a problem I need to have taken care of as quietly and quickly as possible." The king walked out to stand in front of his desk, gracefully stepping over the mess he had created in his momentary outburst. "There is a child I want found. It is a baby born to a farmer in the kingdom. It must be killed."

If the two men as any objections to harming an infant they didn't make them known, not even but the slightest twitch of disgust or discomfort passed over their faces. The devilish one nodded, confirming they would take the task, "and the farmer's name?"

"I do not know." The king confessed irritably. "I have a description of the child. It is a boy with blue eyes, red lips and pale skin. That is all I have to offer as aid in this mission. It is up to you two to find it and when you do bring it to me. You must not fail me."

"Yes, your majesty." Both men bowed again before vanishing into the same cloud of red and black smoke they had appeared from.

After nearly a week of combing through almost every house in the vast kingdom the two men returned with the only three children they found that had fit the vague description and were born on the proper day. They presented them to the king in his private study, the one with the mirror hanging on the wall behind the large desk.

The king smiled, knowing one of these awful things had to be the monster that could destroy him and he could easily kill it now before it became even the slightest threat.

One by one they were presented to the woman in the mirror. One child was pale with dark lips, brown hair and dull blue eyes, another was pale but darker than the other two with blue eyes, blonde hair and bright pink lips and the third one was lightest of all with flaming red hair, pale blue-green eyes and light red lips.

One by one they were each rejected. None of them were right. Important in their own way but not the one the King was looking for.

"Kill them." The order was sharp, demanding immediate action that the two in black were just about to deliver when the woman in the mirror shouted.

_No. Do not._

The king rounded on her to demand an explanation but she was no longer visible in the mirror. In fact, he found himself glaring daggered at his own reflection. Anger boiled beneath the surface. He was ready to grab the mirror and threaten to drop her if she didn't come back and explain why they must live. However, he managed to calm himself before he even touched the mirror.

Turning back to the two holding the children, ready to slaughter them without hesitation, he gave the order for them to return them and find the proper child.

.

Four years passed and each day was more of a blessing than the last to Brian and Sharon now that they had their little Charles. He was their world now and everything they did they did for his benefit. Brian taught him, when he was old enough to understand, what vegetables could be planted at what point in the year while his mother taught him simple household talents that could come in handy someday.

As he grew up it seemed that all Sharon's wishes for him came true. He was only four years old and already so smart. His eagerness to learn seemed to be insatiable. He was strong. He always volunteered to carry his mother's large basket of roses for her or help with his father's heavy farming tools. Most of all, he was beautiful. No matter how many days he spent in the sun with his father his skin never darkened or burned, it stayed snow white. His lips were a softer shade of red now that he was older but darkened to a blood red color whenever he bit or licked them too much. His dark hair grew in long, dark waves flopped across his forehead. His mother only cut his hair when it started getting in the way of his bright blue eyes.

He was only allowed out of the house when he was with his father in the fields or if he was following his mother to town to help sell her roses. He wasn't allowed to play with the other children. Not only did the other children all live closer to town but over the years there had been rumors of children his age going missing and then reappearing out of the blue. So his parents kept him good and safe in their home, where he was truly happy. He expressed no great longing to have friends when he had the company of his parents and the livestock and books.

Their lives seemed perfect for those first four years.

It was a late summer afternoon when it happened. Charles was poking holes in a little patch of earth his father had set aside for him to grow his own little vegetable patch with his fingers and Sharon was at her window watching him and his father work. He had just stood up to show his mother what a good job he was doing, just like his father had showed him to do, when she screamed "Brian!"

When she disappeared from her window to run outside Charles turned around. He saw his father just as he collapsed, clutching at his chest, a few meters away from where he stood.

He tilted his head to the side not understanding what was happening, sometimes his father did this when his mother was mad, saying things like 'oh my heart can't take being broken' or 'you're hurting my heart' when he got back on his feet. This would always make his mother laugh though, why had she screamed this time?

He waited a moment for his father to get back up grinning like he always did but he didn't move. "Daddy?" He called but still there was no movement from the man on the ground. He knew something was wrong. He started running as fast as his little legs would carry him, trying to avoid stepping on the withering sprouts that had just barely poked up through the dirt.

"Daddy!" He called again as he dropped to his knees beside his father who was face down in the dirt. He grabbed the back of his shirt and tried to turn him over. "Daddy, get up already."

His mother was there within seconds, knocking his small hands away so she could turn her husband over and see what the matter was.

"Brian?" When she got no response from him she checked for breathing by putting her ear to his lips. She found none, so she checked for a heartbeat, still none.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Charles asked as he watched his mother grow pale. His voice shook with fear even though his father always told him he needed to be strong because showing fear was what makes you weak. When his father told him that he would always ask if he was ever afraid of anything and he would nod but smile and say that he makes sure to never show it for him and his mother's sake.

"Mommy?"

"Go inside, baby." She ordered. "Mommy has to go take daddy to the doctor's."

"He's okay, right?" Charles tried to hide his tears by rubbing his eyes but the quiet sniffling gave him away.

"Go inside." She ordered more firmly, ignoring his tears and taking on the tone she did when she got mad.

Charles nodded and quickly followed her instructions and ran inside so he didn't make her madder. He hurried to his mother's window and got up on her chair so he could watch. Outside his mother was getting the horse and cart and putting his father in it as fast as she could.

Charles wanted to yell out to her and say "daddy will be mad when he's done at the doctors and finds his hard work is ruined" but he thought it better to stay silent.

His mother didn't come back until very late and when she entered the house she came alone. Charles got down off the chair where he had waited the entire time and ran over to her to hug her but she ignored him and walked straight to her room. He watched as she flopped onto the bed and immediately go to sleep.

Biting his lip he made his way to her side, guessing it was time for bed even though his tummy growled, asking for food. He had had a couple crackers while she was gone but he didn't want to spoil his dinner, she always seemed upset when his father would let him eat something big too close to dinner time.

He sat on the bed and took off his shoes then crawled into his parents' bed and not his own since it seemed like his father wouldn't be coming home from the doctor's tonight. He curled up beside her and looked up at her sleeping face, she looked peaceful but he could see tear marks down her cheeks. He reached out and touched one of her cheeks; it was still wet from the tears that must have stopped just before she walked in the door.

She grabbed his hand and muttered something in her sleep. Her voice was too quiet and slurred for him to understand what she said. He wrinkled his nose when he smelled something unpleasant on her breath, it smelled like the clear, stinging cleaning stuff the doctor had but on his father's hand when he accidently cut it on a tool. Charles had picked up the bottle and frowned, rubbing his nose to get rid of the smell that burned his nose.

"What mommy?" He asked quietly, hoping she was awake enough to repeat whatever it was she said. She was but the only words he could make out was 'your' and 'daddy.'

"What?" He asked again, "I can't hear you."

Her eyes opened this time, then narrowed like she was angry with him but he didn't know what he did wrong. She had said something and if it was about his father then it must be important enough for him to hear. "Your daddy's gone."

He furrowed his brow and bit his lip. What did she mean by 'gone?' What had happened to him? He tried to understand what she meant on his own, afraid that if he asked she'd get madder at him for some reason.

His silence didn't seem to help at all, she got mad anyway. "He's gone! Dead!" She snapped, "Now go get in your bed."

Charles stopped breathing for a moment as he processed what his mother had just told him. Before he understood the gravity of it tears were welling up in his eyes and his nose was already beginning to run. His father wasn't coming back from the doctor's, ever. The tears rolled down his cheeks and by the time he was getting ready to crawl into his bed he was sobbing.

He didn't understand why his mommy was being so mean suddenly, especially about this. He wanted to sleep with her tonight, feel her rubbing his back like she did when he was upset but he knew she'd yell at him if he got back in bed with her. He cried so hard that he wore himself out and drifted off to sleep before the tears even stopped.

The next year was a terrible one. Everyday his mother would go out and come back smelling like the cleaning stuff and go to bed without making a single meal all day. After only a few days of this Charles learned to just clean up the vegetables they had in the house and eat them if he didn't want to starve. Since he wasn't taught how to start a fire, his mother thought that was too dangerous for a boy his age no matter how smart he was, he couldn't cook any meat or anything at all really.

Every night, before bed, he'd pray to his father to come back and help them. He was so scared and he couldn't hide it like he was always told to do. Each time his prayers went unanswered he'd curl up in bed and cry himself to sleep only to find in the morning he had the strength to keep working.

Everything was okay with the farm in the beginning. He knew what vegetables would be ready when and when it was autumn the apples were ready. It was impossible to reach any of the apples on his own since he couldn't climb this tree, the branches started too high, so he got another framer to help, promising he could have some of the apples if he helped. He sold two of the chickens to another man if he would let his wife each him to cook, it was no use though, he burnt everything at least he now knew how to start a fire for when winter came.

However, by the end of autumn most of the plants had died from the frost that was starting to freeze the Earth, including his mother's roses. He couldn't help being happy that they were dying, it no longer gave his mother an excuse to go into town to sell them and then come back with no money smelling like she did every night. Sadly not having the roses didn't seem to stop her at all.

Winter hit and it hit hard. Snow fell by the bucketful, keeping his mother from going in town. For a short time things returned to normal, his mother cooking while he busied himself by playing all sorts of games he made up in his head to keep himself entertained for the first time since his father had passed. It was good for a few weeks but once the snow calmed his mother started going out again but this time when she came back it was worse.

She started bringing a man home with her.

She took him to her bedroom and closed the door. Terrible noises would come from the room, mostly it was his mother sounding like she was in some sort of pain, like the man was hurting her but once he'd leave she'd be smiling and make him something to eat.

Charles would always cry while it was happening and then stare at her with questioning eyes when the man was gone but she'd never explain what happened in the room.

One night when it was particularly bad sounding in there Charles couldn't block it out so he ran to the door. Opening it just a crack he peered inside to make sure the man wasn't hurting her. When he saw what was happening all the breath in his body left him.

His mother was on the bed and the man was between her legs, they were both naked. He didn't understand what he was seeing and he couldn't tell if the man was hurting her. The man spotted him and grinned, moving his hips forward, making his mother make the almost-but-not-quite-pained noise louder than normal. He held Charles' stare, making it practically impossible for the boy to look away from his cruel eyes as he moved his hips again and again. That was the first night the man stayed over.

It wasn't long before the man, Kurt, Charles had learned, was practically living with them. He brought his son to stay with them as well, forcing Charles out of his bed and onto the floor in the living room. Charles hated the son, Cain, he hated the way the man looked at his mother and he really hated the way they both looked at him. Every time he saw Kurt's eyes staring at him, which was always too much, it was worse than Cain's stares because he thought back to the night he saw what the man did to his mother.

He always wanted to cry when he was alone with the man or his son for too long but he stayed as strong as he could, hiding his fears like his father had told him to do.

But one night changed everything.

Charles was sleeping on a matt by the dying embers that used to be the fire when he heard the floor boards squeak. He was going back to sleep when he felt someone lay down behind him. He thought it was his mother so he relaxed, again ready to sleep but suddenly his pants were pulled down and he knew this wasn't his mother. Before he could react someone was touching him.

He pushed the hands away and got up as fast as he could. He screamed when he saw it was Cain who had touched him. He had pulled up his pants just as Kurt and his mother came out of their room. He instantly started crying as he ran to his mother, throwing his arms around her, hoping she'd protect him.

When he told her the place Cain had touched him she got angry, but not at him, at them. She picked him up and held him close for the time in months as she pat his back and tried to sooth him. She told them that she was going to report Cain to the authorities but Kurt told her he'd take care of it and took Cain outside.

She took Charles to her room and shut the door. He was allowed to sleep with her for the first time since his father died but even with her rubbing his back and saying she'll tell the authorities tomorrow he continued to cry. He wasn't just crying about tonight, he was crying for his father, the months since, having to be around that man and his son and he was also crying for a strange pain he was feeling, as if someone was hitting him.

He woke up when the sun was just coming up but his mother was already out of bed. He wiped his face on the sheets before he got out of bed to find his mother. He walked across the worn carpet and left the room. His mother wasn't in the living room or kitchen. Confused, he pulled on his shoes and his father's coat then ran outside.

His mother was standing near two men on horseback while Cain and Kurt where nowhere to be found. Running over to her he grabbed her arm and looked up at the two men with a small smile. One man was in the white armor of the army, there wasn't anything distinct or remarkable about him. However, the man in black armor had sharp black eyes that were fixed on him the moment he left the house. He didn't think anything of it because he was so happy, his mother really did go to the authorities like she said she would and it appeared Kurt helped Cain to run away. He could only hope life was going to be good again.

"When was the child born?" asked the man in white.

"Close to five years ago." His mother answered.

The answer seemed to please the man in black because he smiled and nodded when the white knight turned to him. Charles watched both men, frowning, he stepped behind his mother when the man in white got off his horse and knelt before him. "What pretty eyes you have, little one."

"My mommy said God gave them to me." He muttered, pressing close to his mother.

"I bet he did." The knight smiled ruffling his hair then stood up. He took a pouch off the saddle of his horse and handed it to Sharon. "Thank you for your help."

Sharon just nodded and looked toward the snow covered field as Kurt and Cain came into view. Charles started at the two in confusion, he had thought they ran off to escape authority but now they were standing beside them like nothing was wrong.

Charles was just about to ask what was going on when the knight picked him up. His eyes widened seeing Kurt smiling at him as he was carried over to the horse. "Mommy?"

"Be good, Charles. You need to go with the nice men." Sharon said smiling sadly as she reached out and stroked Charles' soft hair.

"No Mommy! Please mommy I want to stay with you!" He started crying and struggling to be put down but the grip holding him only got tighter. The knight placed him on the back of a horse before getting on it himself, holding Charles so he couldn't jump down and run back to his mother. "Don't let him take me!"

The man turned the horse around and road off, the black knight following close behind. Kurt smiled watching them go then led Sharon back into the house. She turned her back on the child she once wanted more than anything.

"MOMMY!"

The kingdom was so vast that the castle was a full three and a half day's ride from the farm and Charles tried to escape every chance he got. He tried to run home when the knights stopped to eat and take a break from riding but he didn't get far at all before the knight in the black armor ran after him and grabbed him. He screamed and cried and kicked as the man handed him off to the man in white on the horse then got on his horse and road off.

When they finally got to the castle Charles was asleep in the white knight's arms. He had fought and cried so much that he had worn himself out completely. The knight looked down at the small boy in his arms and smiled, he was so beautiful and a lot more so now that he was asleep and not trying to claw his face off so he could get away. He was a fighter, no doubt about it.

"What does the king want with this child anyway?"

The knight in black just silently looked at him then back at the castle.

"Not a man of any words, I see." He said.

As they passed the main gate and entered the court yard where two more men in black came out to meet them. Charles woke up just as the horse came to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the main doors. He looked up at the knight with tears already forming in his eyes but there was also fire building behind those blue pools. He was about to start fighting when the two other knights in black grabbed him and pulled him from the horse.

He growled and kicked one man in the face, more than likely breaking his nose, while he scratched the other man's neck. They both dropped him and he got up and ran as fast as he could. The knight in white laughed as he watched the five year old race toward the closing gate and the others chase after him.

"Let me go! Mommy!" He screamed as loud as he could as a knight in black shoved him to the ground so he could pick him up and carry him over his shoulder.

"Let me go!"

"Stop it! You're hurting him!" Another boy yelled. He worked in the stables and had come to fetch the horses when he saw the knights chasing Charles.

"Erik, come along." An old man said quickly pulling the boy away before any of the knights could do something to him.

"Silence him." Someone snapped at the old man who nodded pulling the boy away.

Charles struggled to see what was happening around him as he was carried up the steps. He managed to look over at the other boy who was being led away by the old man. For just a brief second their eyes locked, the boy's deep blue-green eyes and Charles' stunning blue, then the door slammed shut.

He was carried up three flights of stairs and taken down too many corridors to count. He wasn't getting nowhere by fighting and screaming after the first staircase and he knew he was tiring himself out so he decided to wait and make it look like he was tired until they got to where they were going to do anything.

After another corner they entered a large room where he was unceremoniously thrown down before a large desk and a strange-looking mirror. There was a woman reflected in it but the person standing beside it, looking into the mirror, wasn't a woman.

"Well?" The man standing in front of the mirror asked when the woman hesitated as she stared down at Charles.

The woman nodded only once and the man turned around, all he saw was the man's ice blue eyes before there was a splitting pain and his world went black.

world went black.


	2. A taste of power

A Taste of Power

_S__haw, do not kill the boy._

The King shot a dark glare at the woman in the mirror before turning back to the boy lying face down, unconscious, on the floor of his study. This was the child that he had spent close to five years trying to find for the single purpose of killing him and now he was being told to spare his life. That could not happen, not when this child was to bring his kingdom to ruin.

He pulled out his sword and made his way over to the child. Turning him over with the toe of his boot so he was lying on his back, Shaw pressed the blade of his sword to the slender column of the boy's neck. He studied the boy's face, still round with baby fat, and frowned. It would be a shame to kill something that could be truly breathtaking one day.

_Shaw…_

"Silence or I'll smash you after I'm done with him." He snapped as he raised his sword, ready to strike.

_You cannot kill him. If you do there is another who will take his place._

He slowly lowered his sword and turned around to glare at the mirror. "Excuse me?"

_It will happen sooner rather than later if you kill him now._

"Then what am I supposed to do with him?" He hissed pointing to the unconscious boy with his sword.

_Keep him in the dark. Do not let him know about the power lying dormant within him._

As the mirror reasoned with him, trying to get him to spare the boy's life, he turned back to him. He could easily win a child's affection, manipulate him into following his every command and then when he was old enough he could make it so he would never betray him. It seemed as though it would be an easy enough plan, after all what little boy from a poor family doesn't wish he could be a prince?

As he watched, the boy's brow furrowed as he slowly began to wake. Pools of deep blue slowly appeared from behind closed eyelids and long lashes. Shaw stared down at those eyes as they narrowed and the child got to his feet.

"I want to go home." The boy said.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Charles."

"Well that's a-"

"I want to go home. Now."

Charles felt his cheek set on fire the moment the back of the man's hand came in contact with his face. The impact had had so much force behind it that it had easily knocked him to the ground. He blinked back tears for as long as he could before they spilled down his cheeks anyway.

"You will not talk to your king that way."

He wanted to say something mean, like his father did whenever talk of the king came up at home. He'd always say things about how horrible the king was, how he never fed nor cared for his people, but then his mother would always silence him saying it was illegal to speak ill of his majesty. He decided to stay quiet as he gently rubbed his stinging cheek.

"You're lucky that I've not run you through, you annoying little pest." The king hissed through clenched teeth.

_Shaw. Gentle._

At the command the king seemed to relax a little but Charles tensed. He had heard the woman's voice in his head as if it had been one of his own thoughts and not the lady at the mirror speaking. Her lips hadn't moved but it had to have been her.

As he stared at the blonde haired woman, who was smiling at him, the king knelt before him and grabbed his small wrist, pulling his hand away from his cheek. He was about to scream when the king's hand replaced his, gently cupping the redden skin. As the king stroked his cheek the stinging pain slowly began to fade.

He was becoming very tired, only partly aware of the soft voice of the woman in the mirror whispering in the back of his mind for him to _sleep, sleep, sleep…_

When he woke again it was already deep into the night and the only light in the room was the faint moonlight that shined through the two windows. He would have gotten out of the large bed to look out them if not for it being so warm and the rest of the room being close to freezing. It was the dead of winter and the cold air was flowing freely into the room through those windows.

He pulled the covers up to his nose and closed his eyes. He wished his mother was here so he could curl up against her warmth and feel safe in her arms. Looking around the room, he thought of how unlike his room at home this place was and tears started stinging the corner of his eyes.

"No. You will not cry." He told himself firmly then he kicked the covers off and slid off the large bed. The stone floor was freezing under his bare feet as he hurried over to the unlit fire place. Kneeling in front of the hearth, he felt around in the dim moonlight for something to light a fire with. When he found the flint stone he silently sent his thanks to the farmer's wife that had tried to teach him how to cook for teaching him how to at least start a fire.

Shivering and clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering, he struck the stone against the steel grate where the tender and logs rested until he got sparks. Light wisps of smoke floated up from where the sparks landed on the wood but didn't catch enough to start a blaze.

He was going to strike the grate again when he heard footsteps outside the door. He turned toward his bed but then grabbed one of the fire pokers before he ran back to the bed. He quickly shoved the poker under his pillow and jumped in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin just as the door opened.

He tried to breathe calmly as he pretended to be asleep, his fingers curling around the poker under his pillow just in case whoever this was tried anything funny.

He tensed when the bed dipped as the person sat down. For a long time nothing happened and he was able to relax a little but he was also curious to who it was. Opening one eye part way, he glanced up at the person only to see the king staring directly at him. He quickly shut his eye and rolled over as if he was asleep, silently hoping the king hadn't seen him peek.

"I know you're not sleeping, Charlie."

"It's Charles, not Charlie." He corrected quietly. There was no use in pretending if he wasn't fooling any one so he opened his eyes and sat up, looking up at the king who seemed to tower ominously over him.

"It's whatever I say it is." Shaw smiled ruffling his already sleep disheveled hair. Charles shoved his hand away but he grabbed his chin, firmly holding him in place.

"Now be a good boy and listen close," He said in a low growl, "This is a chance for you to be a prince."

"I don't want to be a prince, I want to go home." Charles' voice steadily got louder until he was yelling.

The king covered his mouth and forced him back down onto the pillows as he leaned over his small body. "You will be one and if you step out of line I'll kill you and then your mother."

Charles felt hot tears pool at the corners of his eyes when his fears started rising up inside of him. He could feel the King's power and hatred towards him practically flowing off of him in waves, making the threat all the more real. If he wasn't good then his mother was going to pay for it, how was that fair?

"Do we understand each other, Charlie?" Charles hesitated before nodding and giving a muffled sound of agreement.

"Good." Shaw's smile didn't reach his cold eyes as he moved his hand from over Charles' mouth and started stroking his hair. It felt so much like when his father had always done it as he told him a bedtime story that it made the tears that had built up escape down his cheeks. "I suggest you get a few more hours of sleep, your lessons will begin in the morning. If you're going to be a prince you must learn to act like one."

The king stood up and walked to the door. He stopped right before he was about to leave and looked back at Charles who was watching him. They silently stared at each other until Charles broke the gaze by turning on his side, his back facing the king.

"Goodnight, Prince Charlie."

When the king left Charles got out of bed again and crept to the door and opened it just a crack. He watched the king disappear down the hallway before he stepped out of the room. There was no way he could make it home to his mother before the sun rose, no hope of escape at all really.

He wandered around the hallways with no real direction, only thinking about his mother. What had she told the knights that would make the king himself want him to be a prisoner disguised as a prince or dead?

His chin started to tremble and he bit his lip to stop it. He didn't think he had done anything bad, just told her where Cain had touched him. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do but he had been scared and confused and all he told was his mother, he wasn't going to tell anyone else, it was her that said she'd turn Cain in. Maybe she thought he'd be safe at the castle.

He was just about to turn a corner when he heard footsteps. He quickly backed up, pressing himself to a wall and looked around for a place to hide. He was too far from his room to run back to it and the only place to hide was behind a tapestry hanging on the wall so he quietly slipped behind it.

He knew this wouldn't hide him, his feet stuck out from under it if the child-size fold in the fabric wasn't obvious enough, so he prayed to his father to make whoever was coming turn back or turn the other way and not notice.

The footsteps stopped right in front of his hiding place. There was a snort of a laugh then the sound of ripping fabric right above his head.

He didn't wait for the man to see him when the fabric fell away, he instantly took off running back to his room as fast as he could but the man managed to get a hold of him before he got more than a few meters. "Hold on there, kid."

He stopped fighting immediately, dropping to his knees with his hands held up in surrender. He thought of what the king might do to his mother when he heard he was bad and had snuck out of his room.

"I'll be good, I'll be good," He whispered, "I promise."

"Calm down, kid. I'm not going to hurt ya."

The man stared down at him with confusion written on his scruffy face. Frowning, he knelt down beside Charles who moved away from him as if he was getting ready to spring to his feet and take off running again.

When the man held out his hands, showing he didn't have a weapon, Charles relaxed a little but then looked up at the tapestry, there were three long gashes in the fabric right above where he'd been standing.

He looked back at the man, looking him over for where he could be hiding a weapon but it appeared he didn't have one at all, not even a sword at his hip like most of the other knights in black had. This man was bigger than the other knights he had seen earlier today. His armor didn't seem to fit his large muscles the right way, leaving large gaps between each plate that could give an opponent the advantage in a fight. It was worse since the man was wearing a white shirt underneath his armor, highlighting the weaker spots.

"Where were you going in such a hurry?" The man's voice was rough almost as if he was growling as he spoke. Charles would have thought he was angry if not for the smile tugging at the corners of the man's thin lips.

He thought of running again, surely the man wouldn't be able to get up fast enough to catch him this time but he quickly abandoned though thought and answered "I was just going back to my room."

"Come on then. I'll take you." The man said as he stood

"I can go by myself." Charles responded, hopping to his feet.

The man looked at him as if he thought he wouldn't go straight back to his room if he wasn't escorted. "Lead the way, kid." He said lightly nudging Charles in the direction he had tried to escape to earlier.

"My name's Charles, not kid." He muttered as he started back the way he had come.

"And mine's Logan, Chuck." The man, Logan, smiled when Charles looked back at him with a frown.

"My name is Charles, not Chuck."

"I understood you the first time, Chuck." Logan laughed at the unhappy face Charles made when his proper name wasn't used.

When they got to the room Charles stepped inside only to back out again. The room was even more freezing, colder than the rest of the castle even. He looked up at Logan who arched a questioning eyebrow, as if what he had done made him seem crazy.

"It's freezing in there." He explained.

Logan made a noise of what he could only guess was disapproval then moved him aside and headed straight for the fireplace. Charles silently watched from the doorway as he knelt over to the fireplace and easily got a fire going. He glanced back at Charles with a smug expression as if he was showing off a skill that he had and Charles didn't. He couldn't help feeling the need to prove to Logan that he knew how to light a fire, that he wasn't a useless little kid.

"Get in bed I'll find something to put over the windows." The man said as he started going through the practically empty closet.

Charles walked over to his bed and climbed up onto the mattress. The whole bed had lost its earlier warmth and caused him to shiver as he arranged the pillows, making sure to keep the fire poker hidden from Logan's sight. He sat, leaning back against the head board, and watched Logan look through the chest of drawers.

"Ha. Got something." Logan pulled something out of the last drawer and headed over to the windows. Charles frowned as he tried to make out what the thing he was holding was. As soon as he recognized it he bolted out of bed and snatched his father's coat out of Logan's hands.

"No." He held the worn leather to his chest and backed away so Logan couldn't take it away from him. He hadn't noticed that the coat was missing, it was the only thing of his father's he had left and if he had lost it he didn't know what he would have done. "It's my daddy's."

Logan nodded silently and gestured for him to get back in bed. Charles returned to the bed, pulling the coat on as he sat against the headboard again. He could feel the warmth of the fire starting to spread through the room but the winter air coming in through the windows was still winning the battle for the overall temperature of the room.

It wasn't long before Logan found something else to cover the windows and the room started to warm up. Charles felt his eye lids started to get heavy again but he stayed alert since he wasn't alone.

Logan walked over to stand at the side of his bed. "Lay down." He said quietly and Charles did as he was told, his hand sliding under his pillow to grab the poker, just in case. "You should get to sleep."

"I don't sleep well near others." He muttered half into his pillow as he thought about Cain.

"I'll leave after I know you're asleep and won't be sneaking around the castle." Logan said sitting at the foot of his bed.

"You'll be here a long time then."

"How about I tell you a story, will that help?"

"I don't think," He yawned, "it will."

"There once was a farmer and his wife" Logan began, "they didn't have much but the only thing they wanted was child. Every day the wife would sigh and say 'I wish I had a child a white as snow, as red as blood and as bright as the sky' until one day, after many years, the farmer's wife gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. His skin was as white as snow with lips as red as blood and eyes as bright as the sky."

Logan smiled slightly seeing Charles' eyes were slowly drifting shut. "Several happy years passed by and the farmer became ill and soon died. The farmer's wife tried to raise the child herself but she soon turned to drink and forgot about the baby. She spent all of their money until one day she met a man who told her the king was looking for a child that matched her son's description and that there was a reward…"

Charles was already fast asleep so Logan stood to leave just like he said he would. He didn't see the point in telling the rest of the story if Charles was already asleep so he adjusted the covers the boy had kicked off so they would keep him warm then headed toward the door. He looked back at the boy curled up on the bed. He looked even smaller than he already was wrapped up in the covers of such a huge bed.

"And they lived happily ever after." Logan smiled to himself and pulled the door shut behind him as he left the room.

The sun was hardly over the horizon when three people entered the room and uncovered to windows, letting the freezing air inside. The fire had died down to smoldering embers that weren't strong enough to warm the cold now streaming into the room.

Charles woke with a start when someone stripped away his covers but before he could say anything a woman grabbed him and pulled him out of the bed.

He tried to understand what was happening as he looked up at the two women and the man hurrying around his room. The man was at his closet putting in things he could only assume were clothes for him, even though most of them almost looked like frilly dresses. One of the women, the one that woke him he guessed, was busying herself by making his bed while the other woman sat in one of the high backed chairs, staring at him. She was different from the other two who were dressed in plain gray clothing, she was in a beautiful navy blue and black ruffled dress.

She snapped her fingers and the other two stopped what they were doing and left the room. Charles couldn't help but give a sigh of relief. He had been scared the woman in gray making his bed would find the fire poker underneath his pillow. He watched the two leave before looking back at the woman in the chair whose icy eyes never left him.

"You may call me Lady Tessa, Lord Shaw's assistant. Lord Shaw has given me orders to make you presentable."

"My name's Cha–" He started to introduce himself but she quickly cut in.

"Charlie, I know." Her painted lips curled into a smile as she looked from him to the door where the man and woman were carrying in a large metal tub. When it as set near the dying fire the woman walked over to Charles and started stripping away his clothing. "Those are to go in the trash."

He felt panic take over as the woman grabbed his father's coat. He grabbed it and leaned close to her so the other woman wouldn't hear him. "Please, not this." He begged quietly, his eyes filling with tears.

The woman glanced over at lady Tessa then back at him and smiled faintly, giving a small nod. She tossed the coat on his bed then proceeded to take off the rest of his clothing, tossing them on the bed with the coat. She was about to pulled down his pants but he stopped her. She took his hand and gave it a small squeeze before she pulled both his pants and underpants down so he was naked. Seeing how uncomfortable he was she quickly took him over to the tub which the man was filling with steaming water.

When he was put in the water was too hot, it burned his cold skin, but when he tried to get back out he was held down and a bucket of the water was splashed on his head. "It's too hot." He cried as another bucketful of the water came crashing down on him.

His complaints went ignored as Tessa started giving orders for soaps and wash rags to be brought in so they could scrub all of the filth off of him.

Charles frowned at that, he was much cleaner than most of the children he saw when he went in town with his mother to sell roses.

Before he had time to take a breath his head was shoved under the water and when he came back up he was forced to stand up. As the cold air licked at his wet skin he wished he could sink back into the burning water so he could be at least a little warm. The man started rubbing something scratchy against his skin, all over his body, until his white skin turned a soft shade of pink.

He looked around for the woman who was finishing up making his bed, he spotted her just as she shoved his father' coat under a pillow then took the rest of his clothes away. He smiled until the man started scrubbing something into his hair, it smelled sweet but the man kept pulling his hair as he washed it. When he was covered in bubbly soap the man sat him back down in the tub then dunked him under the water to rinse it all off.

They did that several more times before he was taken out of the tub and wrapped in a towel. The tub was taken away but quickly replaced was another, hotter one. This time they just made him sit in it as the man and woman cleaned under all of his nails. When that was done he was scrubbed all over again and dunked one final time before he was allowed out, wrapped in a fluffy towel and taken over to the closet.

His skin was red and blotchy from being scrubbed too hard too many times but Tessa, who was now sipping tea, had an approving smile on her face. The woman in gray was holding up some of the frilly outfits for the other woman's approval. She dismissed them all until a white, black and red outfit was held up and she nodded in approval.

He felt like a doll as the people in gray dressed him in a lacy white shirt and underwear then red shorts and a black vest then finally a red overcoat with white lining and black socks and boots that went up to his knees. After he was dressed they dried and combed back his hair and turned him to show Tessa who set her tea down and clapped gleefully. "Perfection."

She stood up and walked him over to a mirror where he could see himself. He frowned immediately upon seeing his reflection. His skin had returned to its normal ivory but his outfit brought out the color of his lips and made his eyes stand out so much that they looked huge. "Why can't I wear my clothes?"

"They're not what lord Shaw wanted you in." Tessa said as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. "You look very handsome."

"I look like a girl in all these ruffles." He complained as he tugged at his overcoat.

Tessa smiled, "Well it's time for lessons. First we'll teach you manners and etiquette for tea, horseback riding and finally you will spend the rest of the day with the king."

She grabbed Charles' hand and pulled him from the room. "You're lucky he wanted to spend time with you or else we'd have your day filled with lessons. We have so much to teach you, history, languages and art and music and so on. You will be the perfect prince."

They walked down the halls he had last night and turned the corner he had been about to when Logan appeared. Tessa took him into the first room and sat him down at a small table in front of a tea set. He immediately reached for his cup but she smacked his hand. "That's not proper. You wait for all of your guests to be seated. If you weren't the prince you would be the last to be seated." She sat at the spot beside him.

"I'm not a prince. My daddy was a far–"

"Be silent." She hissed, "Now pick up your napkin, unfold it and place it on your lap."

Charles looked down at his place setting for the first time and swallowed hard seeing the many spoons and forks. He glanced over at Tessa who was watching him like a hawk then down at his napkin as he unfolded it and put it on his lap.

"Good but next time don't look down. You need to keep your chin held high, you're royalty." He was about to object again but she held her hand up to silence him. "Now you get to learn how to hold a teacup."

Several hours passed before he was allowed to have even one sip of tea, he had dropped three cups and broken two of them, didn't stir his tea the correct way, didn't use his napkin the correct way, didn't sit properly at some point or didn't keep his chin tilted the right way. Every little thing he did wrong she would jump on it and make him redo it until he got it right even if he just shifted his fingers the wrong way.

"No. You're drinking that all wrong." She snapped. "Lower your eyes to the liquid don't look at me while you drink that."

"This is stupid." He yelled throwing his cup on the ground. "I won't need to know this. I don't want to do this. I want to go—" He gasped, cutting off, as something deep inside his brain unlocked letting thousands of things flood in all at him all at once, racing, fleeting things, like unfamiliar thoughts, feelings and memories that weren't his. His mind flooded with the strange images and voices and almost instantly a headache so painful the quiet _clink_ of Tessa setting her teacup down on the saucer sounded louder than thunder formed.

He became nauseous as everything seemed to spin around him, the memories flashed before his eyes then where gone again, replaced by another quicker than the blink of an eye while the voices all screamed, competing for his attention. He couldn't hear his own inner voice over the sea of unfamiliar ones saying so many things he couldn't understand any particular one above the others. It felt like he was thousands of different people all at once.

"_Calm."_ He shouted over the sound of the voices, "_Calm down_."

The voices all became quieter as he hushed them until he came across a familiar one, it cut through all the voices, Tessa's. "_Good God_. _Who is this child?"_

He felt whatever had opened in his mind start closing and the voices all faded until they were gone completely and whatever it was in his mind was locked up again. He gasped, taking a breath for the first time since the voices started, as he opened the eyes he didn't know he had shut. His head pounded painfully but it wasn't long before that too faded. After a few minutes of staring at his lap he looked up and saw Tessa staring at him, slack jawed with wide eyes.

"Wha-what just happened?" He asked

"What do you mean?" She asked with a confused expression quickly replacing her shocked one. "Get a new teacup and start over."

"No. I heard… voices, saw things like… I don't know there was so many and they moved so fast I…"

"Get up." Tessa stood up and threw her napkin down on the table. She grabbed Charles' arm, pulling him to his feet and practically dragging him toward the door.

"Where are we going?" He asked as he pulled his arm away from her. He was afraid she was taking him to the king because he told her something wrong. She grabbed for him but he backed away. "I-I won't tell anyone what I saw or heard… I promise. Please don't tell."

Tessa looked at him with a strange, unreadable expression. She moved to her knees, arranging her dress around her so it wouldn't wrinkle too badly and held her hands out to him. He looked from her unreadable face to her arms then fell into them. He wrapped his arms tightly round her neck and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

The scent of her perfume wrapped around him, soothing him and reminding him of home, of the frost covered roses that still refused to die until he father passed away and of his mother, before Kurt and before she drank, back when all she smelled of was roses.

Charles closed his eyes as tears started to form. He was tired of crying but he missed his mother and he didn't understand what those voices and visions had been. Tessa didn't seem like she understood what he was talking about at all which only made him all the more scared she'll tell someone and he'll be punished by the king or sent away with the others that heard voices.

Back in the village closest to their farm there had been a little girl with red hair and bright green eyes who started hearing voices when she was eleven. She started telling people and it wasn't long before someone came to take her away. No one had seen her since. He was scard the same would happen to him.

"Calm down Charlie." Tessa said as she rubbed his back. "You're safe."

Charles wiped his runny nose on his sleeve and stayed close to Tessa. He felt a little better when she said he was safe, it meant she wouldn't tell and not only was he safe but his mother was too.

The door swung open, hitting the wall behind it and giving Charles a start. He stepped back from Tessa, who had let go of him and stood, and looked over at the man in the doorway. He smiled a little seeing that it was Logan but the smile vanished almost as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'm here to take Chuck for riding lessons."

"I thought I was supposed to escort him today." Tessa said pursing her lips.

"You were but the king wants to see you. I was sent to take over."

Tessa nodded and started toward the door but stopped and walked back to Charles. She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"No more crying." She whispered in his ear, "You need to start being a lot stronger from now on." She fixed his hair then straightened up, fixed her dress and left the room.

Charles watched her leave then looked up at Logan whose hazel eyes were locked on him. "Toughen up, Chuck. Wipe your face off."

He frowned at the name but didn't say anything as he started wiping the tear stains away with his sleeves. When Logan started laughing he looked up at him and tilted his head to the side. "What?"

"Not very princely of you," Logan said.

"I'm not supposed to use my napkin and I don't have a handkerchief." He muttered recalling what Tessa had told him about how to use a napkin properly. He looked down at his sleeves, they were only slightly damp, nothing that wouldn't dry by the time they got wherever they needed to be.

Logan just laughed, "Alright, let's go then."


	3. The Apple Tree

The Apple Tree

Charles followed after Logan as quickly as he could but he kept falling behind and had to jog to keep up. At one point he grabbed a hold of Logan's hand to slow him down but it didn't seem to work, he was just pulled along. They walked down unfamiliar halls and down different steps than he had taken yesterday until they came to a worn wooden door.

"I thought we were going to the stables," Charles said letting go of Logan's hand.

"We are. This is a back way. Servants use this way and since you're not very princely I thought I'd take you this way." Logan smiled down at him and nudged him.

Charles smiled brightly up at him. "I'm not a prince in any way."

"Now that's something." Logan said patting his head.

"What?"

"That smile."

His smile faded a little and his gaze dropped to the floor. "My daddy said I had a smile like my mommy's. She could light a room up but she didn't smile much."

He thought about his mother's smile and then how she stopped smiling completely when his father fell down in the field and didn't get up again. He thought about how numb and blank she had become. His chin started to tremble but he didn't cry, instead he tried to open the large door, which was heavier than he thought it would be. Logan ended up holding it open for him.

He walked out of the castle, letting go of Logan's hand, and into the stables. It was a huge place with dozens of stalls and horses of all different colors and sizes. Some of the horses were powerful, working horses, the kind with huge hooves and long hair on their legs, while others were built more for speed in battle.

Charles hurried over to one of the nearest stalls and peered over the gate, he was just tall enough to see the animal inside if he stood on his tippy toes. The horse wasn't a baby but it wasn't full grown either, it was just his size. Biting his lip, he held his hand out and the horse steadily approached him.

The horse was just about to touch his hand when someone cleared their throat and asked "What are you doing?"

Charles quickly pulled his hand back and turned around. He found himself staring at the boy from yesterday, the one that had told the knights to leave him be. He felt the need to thank him even though his speaking up really didn't do anything to help.

He was just about to say something when the other boy frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and said "Leave the horses alone."

"Oh," Was the only thing that came out of his mouth. For a long time the two just stared at each other in awkward silence until something pulled the other boy's gaze away.

"Chuck, is there a problem?" Logan asked resting his hand on top of Charles' head, lacing his fingers in the soft, dark curls.

He looked up at Logan who was eyeing the other boy then back at the boy who was practically glaring at both of them. He licked his lips and took a breath.

"Nope, I was just looking at the horse in that stall," He said pointing to the stall he had just been looking in. The horse was looking over the gate at him and whinnied when he smiled at it.

Logan hummed, sounding almost disappointed as he ruffled Charles' hair. "Go get your mentor."

The older boy's eyes narrowed even more but he nodded and walked away.

Once the boy was gone Charles walked over and reached out to the horse again. It nudged his hand and he started to pet its head. The thick white hair was soft under his fingers causing another smile to pull at the corner of his lips. "Do I get to pick the horse I ride with?"

"I don't see why not, you are the prince after all."

"I want this one," He said without protesting to being called a prince for the first time.

"Yes, your highness," said an unfamiliar voice.

Charles looked over in the direction the voice came from and saw the boy had come back with the elderly man from yesterday. He bit his lip to hide his smile as he looked back at the horse.

"Erik, I want you to get the horse saddled up and help his high-"

"You can call me Charles." Charles interrupted but Logan nudged him and shook his head, silently telling him that's not was prince's do. His smile faded completely.

"Erik, just help his highness." After giving the order the older man pulled Logan aside, leaving Charles alone with the boy, Erik.

"I guess I don't have to leave the horses alone." Charles said smugly then stuck his tongue out at the boy.

"Put that back in your mouth or I'll cut it off." Erik hissed under his breath so the grownups wouldn't hear what he said as he opened the stall gate.

Charles obeyed immediately and covered his mouth with his hands for good measure. He silently watched as Erik grabbed the reins that were hanging on the wall and approached the horse which backed away from him. He managed to get the reins on, narrowly avoiding getting bitten when he put the bridle in the horse's mouth, and then got a saddle that would fit the small horse.

Charles frowned behind his hands and said something but it came out muffled and unintelligible.

"What?" Erik asked in an irritated tone as he put a saddle on the horse. When Charles didn't move his hands but tried to speak again Erik marched up to him and grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his mouth. "Speak."

"Why are you so grumpy?" Charles glared up at Erik and pulled his wrists way from him.

"Get on the horse."

"That didn't answer the question," He said crossing his arms.

When it was obvious Erik wasn't going to give him an actual answer he gave up waiting and walked over to the horse. He stared at the saddle and bit his lip. He had never gotten on a horse by himself before. He looked from the saddle over to Erik who was staring at him expectantly.

"Go on then."

He thought about all the times he had seen his father get on the back of their horse and pointed to the stirrup and then asked "I put my foot there, right?"

Erik stared at him then nodded, "Yes."

Charles nodded and looked back at the saddle as he put his foot in the stirrup and bounced, trying to get the courage to jump up and swing his leg over the horse like his father did without falling off. When he felt Erik's hands on his hips he immediately froze.

"When I say jump, jump and I'll help you get on," He said quietly, "Ready, jump."

Charles jumped and Erik helped lift him up so he could get his leg over and sit comfortably on the horse's back. He smiled and looked at Erik whose dark expression had softened, "Ready, your highness?"

"Please call me Charles."

Erik looked over to where Logan and the older man were still talking in hushed voices then back at Charles. Silently, he grabbed the horse's reins and led it out of the stall. The animal resisted at first but once Charles started stroking its mane it started cooperating and followed after Erik.

"Does this horse have a name?" Charles asked when he noticed most of the other stalls had the horses' names on them.

Erik shrugged, "I don't know."

"Can I name it?"

Erik shrugged again, "I guess."

"How old are you?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I want to know."

"Well you already have good balance," Erik said changing the subject, which earned him a frown from Charles. "You've done two things right so far. You mounted the horse on the left side and have found your balance."

Charles looked down at the horse and bit his lip. Getting on the horse the right way had been a complete coincidence and balancing seemed to be no problem but after doing everything wrong during tea he was content to let Erik think he did both things on purpose.

When they left the stable Charles had to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. It was close to mid-day and there wasn't a cloud in the sky to block out the warm sun as it reflected off the piles of half melted snow. The trees lining the forest were all still bare of any signs that spring was coming but the grass in the field where the snow had melted was fresh and green, a welcome sight after months of nothing but white.

He looked over at Erik who had let go of the horse's reins and was staring at him expectantly. He could see his breath come out in a white cloud as he slowly let go of a long sigh. "Did you hear me?"

Charles shook his head. He hadn't heard Erik speak a word since complementing him on doing something right. "No, did you say something?"

Erik's eyes narrowed slightly. "I said get off the horse."

Charles nodded and got off as gracefully as he could which ended with him landing on his back in the grass and one of his shoes still in the stirrup.

"Graceful," Erik snorted.

"My foot got caught in the loop," He muttered, feeling his cheeks starting to color from embarrassment.

Erik just shook his head and grabbed the horse's reins as he removed the shoe from where in had gotten stuck. Instead of handing Charles the shoe when he reached for it he knelt in front of him and slid the shoe back on.

"Thank you," Charles said quietly as he watched Erik.

"Stay here with the horse and I'll be back in a few minutes." Erik stood up and walked back toward the stables.

Charles got up and bushed off his back, happy that even though the snow was melting around the field causing mud puddles there wasn't any mud to stain his clothes where he fell. He made his way back to the horse and grabbed the reins.

"I bet I'd get in trouble if I messed up these clothes." He whispered to the horse as he stroked the animal's cheek and waited for Erik to return.

After what seemed like forever had passed Erik still hadn't come back and Charles had gotten tired of waiting. If Erik wasn't going to help him then he could teach himself how to ride a horse. He took a step back and let out a puff of air then bit his lip as he looked at the animal in front of him.

"It can't be that hard to learn this, can it?" He asked and as if answering his question the horse whinnied and shook its head, it mane flipping from one side of its neck to the other with each shake.

"I didn't think so," He said with a smile. "Okay, first step was get on from the left side."

He held his hands out in front of him, looking from them to the horse to see what side he was standing on. When he figured out he was already on the left side he stepped closer to the saddle and put his foot back in the stirrup. He bounced on his other foot for a moment before he managed to jump up enough to get his leg over the horse, this took a few tries but by the third try he managed to get on and be seated properly.

"I don't know what comes next." He told the horse. He thought back to all the times he had seen his father riding a horse and tried to remember how he had gotten it to move.

His mind pulled up the image of the last time that his father gone to town to sell their harvest at the market. He had loaded the heavy barrels and crates and had let Charles help load the lighter sacks of vegetables into the large cart and attached it to the old horse's saddle. When he had had gotten on, after giving his wife a goodbye kiss and ruffling Charles' hair, he had taken a hold of the reins and nudged the horse's sides with his legs to get it to start moving.

He remembered standing beside his mother and waving as they watched him ride away until he was out of sight. After that she took his hand and led him inside to help her clean up the house.

Charles sniffled and rubbed his eyes to keep away the tears. Both Logan and Tessa had told him he needed to stop crying and he had a feeling that Erik would probably laugh at him or say something mean if he came out and saw him in tears.

Once his chin had stopped trembling he grabbed the reins again. He shifted in the saddle then nudged the horse just like his father had done but nothing happened. He tried again and still nothing happened.

"Why won't you move?" He asked with an exaggerated sigh. When the horse shifted its weight he tried again but this time he did it harder and the horse took off.

Charles barely managed to stay on the horse as it galloped at full speed. Balancing was a lot harder the faster it moved. His mind frantically searched for ways to get the animal to slow down or stop but he didn't know what the right thing to do was so he tried the first thing that had come to mind, pulling the reins.

The horse slowed to a trot and Charles took a deep breath just as Erik came up behind him on a bigger horse which he stopped in front of him, forcing him to a full stop.

"Didn't I tell you to stay put?" Erik yelled as he easily jumped off his horse.

Charles stared wide eyed at him as he pulled the horse's reins out of his hands. "I wanted to try."

"Get off the horse," Erik snapped, practically pulling him down. "Do you know what would happen if you got hurt?"

"I didn't though," he narrowed his eyes and shoved the older boy's hands away from him once he had both feet on the ground.

Erik could easily tell on him for disobeying him and he would get in trouble but already he had done at least two other things that he could have gotten in trouble with the king for but so far no one had told on him. He wasn't really worrying heavily about it this time. He didn't think Erik would say anything.

"If you did it would be my head. You need to listen or you will be hurt or killed," He said in a quiet yet stern voice.

He stared at Erik for a long time, thinking about the boy from yesterday that had yelled out to the knights. Surely he wouldn't say something that would get him hurt, would he?

After a long silence had passed between them, Erik seemed to understand what his stare was asking and shook his head "No."

Charles bit his lip then hugged Erik as tightly as he could. The older boy was hesitant at first but after Charles didn't let go or loosen his grip, Erik gingerly return the embrace.

They stood like that until Erik cleared his throat and gently pushed Charles off of him. Charles looked up at him and couldn't help but smile until his stomach growled. His smile dropped and Erik laughed.

"Tessa wouldn't let me eat," Charles said with a pout.

Erik stopped laughing but a smile had stayed, "So you're hungry?"

His stomach growled again and he nodded.

Erik started looking around as if checking to see if anyone was watching them then took Charles by the hand and pulled him toward the tree line. Charles couldn't help but look back at the stables where they had left Logan with the old man and frown at the thought of what might happen if they were caught. However, his smile instantly returned when he looked back at Erik as they entered the woods.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"You said you were hungry so we're getting something to eat."

"What if we get caught?"

"We'll be back before they notice." Erik said with a reassuring squeeze of his hand.

Charles smiled again. This was the boy from yesterday. He just knew it. That boy that he had met in the stables, the one that had ordered him around and glared at him had to been someone else. He just knew it.

As they hurried deeper into the woods Charles kept his eyes trained on Erik. The older boy had the posture that Tessa had tried to teach him, the one royals always used. His back was straight, shoulders back and he held chin up, never looking at the ground. He couldn't recall any other boys around Erik's age in town using that kind of posture while walking or sitting for that matter. Maybe Erik was actually a secret prince.

His smiled grew and he bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud at the thought. Erik wasn't a prince, he worked in the stables.

His smile vanished when his foot got caught by a tree root and he fell. Erik managed to catch him just in time to stop him from falling face first into the mud and snow mixture that his shoes sunk into with each step. After Erik made sure he hadn't gotten hurt or any mud on him they continued on their quest for food.

Charles had decided that it would be better to watch his feet so he didn't fall again instead of holding his head up like royals were supposed to. He was sure no one, even Tessa, would mind if it meant there was less of a chance of him falling and getting covered in mud.

After several minutes of walking they came to a clearing where Erik stopped suddenly, causing Charles to bump into him. "What is it?"

"The apple tree," Erik said with a small smile.

Charles tilted his head to the side then turned his attention to the clearing. There, in the center of the snow covered opening, stood a large tree. Its branches twisted out in a huge circle around it, casting a shadow over most of the clearing. Unlike the other trees surrounding the clearing this one still had leaves on it, though they were few and were all that beautiful golden color leaves always turned right before they fell off and turned brown and crunchy.

He let go of Erik's hand and took a few steps toward the tree to get a closer look at the deep red fruit that hung down between the golden leaves.

"Can we have those?" He asked, grinning as excitement built up inside him.

Erik gave him a small smile and nodded, "Yes."

Charles ran over to the trunk of the tree and began to try and climb it but Erik grabbed him before he got more than a few feet off the ground.

"I can climb it." He protested as Erik pulled him down from the tree. The trunk of the tree was twisted, looking as though it was several trees that had grown around each other, twisting and intertwining until they fused together. There were plenty of places to hold onto making it easy to climb even though there was a good seven feet before the branches started.

"No," Erik said, "You stay put on the ground. I'm not risking you losing your grip and falling."

Charles' hunger won out over the need to prove he wasn't a useless little kid so instead of pouting and whining about being forced to stay on the ground he just took a step back from the tree and silently watched as Erik easily climbed up the trunk. In no time the older boy was jumping back down, holding two of the deep red fruit in his shirt so he wouldn't drop them.

"Here," Erik said holding out one of the apples for him.

He took the apple out of Erik's hand and looked over the shiny, red surface. He wet his lips then bit into the fruit, easily breaking the delicate skin with his teeth. Juice practically flooded his mouth, coating his tongue with its sweetness. He knew this amount of juice was abnormal for an apple, it was more like biting into an overly large grape that just tasted and looked like an apple, but he didn't question it since Erik was also biting into one.

"We should start back," Erik said after swallowing another bite of fruit.

Charles nodded his agreement since his mouth was too full to even attempt to speak. His mother had taught him not to speak with his mouth full.

As they walked Charles concentrated on watching the roots of the trees he had to step over so he didn't trip and held onto the back of Erik's shirt so he wouldn't run into any trees as he ate his apple. It wasn't long before they were back at the field where they had left the horses which hadn't moved from the spot where they had left them.

Erik had been right, the old man and Logan hadn't noticed their absence at all and were just coming out of the stables when both he and Erik made it back to their horses' sides.

Charles dropped the core of his apple and stepped on it, hiding it with his foot just in case they would get in trouble if the grownups saw the fruit because that would mean they hadn't been doing their lesson like they were supposed to. He glanced over at Erik and saw him feeding his apple core to his horse just in time for it to be gone when Logan walked up to them.

"Chuck, your lesson is being cut short." Logan said

"Why?" He asked looking from Logan to Erik whose face had taken on that cold stare that he had back in the stables. Where did the boy that had just been smiling as he climbed a tree gone?

"Just come on." Logan said taking his hand and leading him away from Erik and the horses.

Charles looked back at Erik and pulled his hand away from Logan to run back to the other boy. He wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes, hugging him as tightly as he could. Erik didn't hesitate this time, he returned the embrace immediately.

"I'll probably see you tomorrow." Erik said quietly next to his ear.

Charles smiled brightly up at him and nodded. He let go and ran back over to Logan who had been watching the two with slightly narrowed eyes.

"I get to come back tomorrow, right?" He asked as he grabbed Logan's hand.

"It depends on what lessons Lady Tessa has planned for you for tomorrow, Chuck." Logan said with a slight shrug.

"Well where are we going now?"

"We're going to meet the king."

Charles stopped walking immediately, let go of Logan and backed away as fast as he could. "I don't want to go to him."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. You have to go." Logan said grabbing his arm then pulled him toward the castle.

"No! No, no, I don't want to!" Charles cried and dug his heels into the earth to try to slow Logan but when that didn't work he tried prying the large hand off his arm.

"Chuck, stop it." Logan growled as he rounded on him. He knelt down in front of Charles and shook him to get him to stop fighting. "Listen, you need to stop fighting me. It's going to be o—"

"Leave him alone."

Charles quickly looked from Logan to Erik who held a knife at his side and both horses' reins in the other hand. His gaze widened and shot back to Logan when the man let him go and stood up, his sharp glare fixed on Erik.

"What are ya gonna do, kid?"

"Whatever it takes for you to leave him alone," Erik said in a stern, steady voice but when Logan took a step forward, his hands curling into fists, Erik took a small, hesitant step back. "He doesn't want to go with you."

"This doesn't concern you," Logan growled. "Stay in your place."

Erik's grip on the knife tightened until his knuckles were white and then his whole body became tense as if getting ready to lash out at the knight. Charles moved in the way of the two and grabbed Logan's arm, tugging at it to pull his attention away from Erik.

"Logan, we have to go. I don't want to get in trouble!" Charles said with a pout.

Logan looked from him back to Erik and nodded. "Let's go, Chuck."

Charles held onto Logan's hand as he headed back to the castle, leaving Erik, unharmed, to deal with the horses. He glanced back at his new friend who was watching them walk away.

Their eyes met and Charles smiled a smile so wide his cheeks hurt. He saw a small smile form on Erik's lips just as he was pulled into the castle and the door was pushed shut.

"I really don't want to go to the king." He muttered under his breath as let Logan lead him down more unfamiliar halls.

"Well you need to buck up and do it."

"He threatened my mommy."

"She's the one that turned you over to him."

Charles stopped walking and looked up at Logan. "What do you know about that? She did it to protect me from this boy, Cain, he was—"

"Chuck." Logan knelt down in front of him again, his expression grave. "Don't you remember me story from last night at all?"

Charles shook his head.

"She saw the reward on a wanted poster for a boy your age, matching your description," said Logan. "She wanted the money so she could buy herself more liquor."

Charles shook his head in disbelief. There was no way his mother would give him away like this so she could drink more. Times at the farm had gotten hard when his father had died but when spring came back so would the crops and then they would have plenty of food and money.

"My mommy wouldn't do that to me." He felt tears burning the corners of his eyes as they threatened to fall.

"She did, Chuck." Logan said with a sigh. "You're lucky though."

"How?" Charles asked through clenched teeth, hands curling into small fists.

"Word was that when the king found the child he was looking for he was going to kill it on sight but you're still alive."

Charles tuned away from Logan and started running back in the direction of the stables. He wanted to get back to the secret apple tree so no one could find him, so he could be alone. He ran as fast as his little legs would carry him but it didn't take Logan long to catch up to him. This time when he grabbed him he swung him over his shoulder and carried him as he fought to be let down. He screamed, kicked and slammed his fists against the knight's back.

"You're going to have to stop fighting so much, Chuck. You'll only hurt yourself."

"No! I'll never stop fighting!" He sniffled.

Logan didn't say anything after that, he didn't even try to stop him from struggling as he carried him the rest of the way to the dining hall.

"There you are!" Tessa called, clapping her hands together.

"He's not being very cooperative." Logan said as he put down Charles who immediately tried to run away.

"Charlie!" Tess yelled after him. "Get back here this instant."

Charles felt something inside him pulling him back to the pair and he stopped running. It was as if he had no control over his own body, like it wanted to obey her more than it did him. He walked back over to them and stopped in front of Tessa. She fixed her dress and knelt down to looked at him.

His hair was messy and his clothes were wrinkled and he had dirt on his hands and his back from falling off the horse and he had fresh, red tear tracks down his cheeks.

"You're a wreck." She exclaimed. She started fixing his hair, combing it back into place with her fingers, then wiped his dried tears with her handkerchief and tried to get the dirt off his palms.

"Why are your hands sticky?"

Charles bit his lip and tried to hold back a smile when he thought of the juice from the apple. "I don't know."

Tessa licked her handkerchief and scrubbed away the stickiness, eyeing him suspiciously. Once the sticky was all gone she looked over his clothes and frowned. "Logan what did you let him get into?"

"He's a little boy, boys get messy. He could be worse." Logan shrugged.

"_Hardly_," She hissed, shooting a glare at the knight before she looked back at Charles. "Okay, take off your coat."

Charles nodded and took the overcoat off. He had thought he didn't get very dirty when he fell but the back of his overcoat told a different story. He bit his lip looking from the dirt to Tessa who was staring at him with a disapproving look in her eyes. Taking the coat from him, she tossed it at Logan as she shook her head and straightened the rest of his clothing, brushing away even the tiniest speck of anything she thought might have been dirt.

"Logan, you need to keep a better eye on him and keep him out of messes. That's your job now."

"No, my job is protecting the kin—"

"The prince," Tessa corrected harshly. "Your job is protecting him and in my book that means keeping him out of—"

"Messes," Logan grunted, crossing his arms over his chest in a display of annoyance.

"—and if you have an issue with that then you take it up with the king." Tessa stood up and straightened her dress. At her full height she was just a head shorter than Logan but at the same time she seemed like more of a threat than Logan did.

She took Charles by the hand and led him through the double doors before he could say bye to Logan.


End file.
